


over rivers, farms and state lines

by ophvelias



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Feels, Light Angst, Phone Calls & Telephones, The Framework Universe (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 13:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11532981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ophvelias/pseuds/ophvelias
Summary: She thinks of vast empty spaces in too-big beds, the way the cold sheets catch on her body and make her shiver — the way she’s been falling asleep alone and waking up alone in a bed that’s made for two.





	over rivers, farms and state lines

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for plinys's prompt 'okay but framework verse and fitz is on a mission or something away from base and time zones suck and calling each other even tho they're like seven hours apart' and it got away from me a little bit. 
> 
> Set in the Inhuman Baby AU verse because of course it is. I should really throw all of them together into like a small collection or something.
> 
> Title from 'Set The Fire To The Third Bar' by Snow Patrol.

Ophelia answers on the second ring.

“Hello?” She asks, voice thick with sleep, casting her gaze towards the alarm clock flashing at her through the darkness. 2:47 AM. She suppresses a groan, leaning over and fumbling with the nightlight switch, squinting against the brightness that envelops the room.

“Ophelia.” Leopold’s voice is tinny on the other end of the phone, distorted by something like jet engines — which, she can only assume, is the Zephyr — but unmistakably familiar.

“Leopold?” She blinks away the tiredness, sitting up in bed, sheets pooling around her hips. “Is something wrong?”

“I wanted to hear the sound of your voice.” Leopold says in lieu of an answer. For a brief moment there’s nothing but the soft whirring of engines, an oddly soothing noise.

“Shit.” He says suddenly and she can almost picture him scrubbing a hand over his face. “Did I wake you?”

“No, no.” Ophelia reassures him quickly and it’s not exactly a lie. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Is everything alright?” Leopold presses, his tone evidently twinged with concern, even through the phone.

“Yeah, just—the baby, you know.” Ophelia shifts her weight from one leg to the other, tucking her phone into the junction between her ear and shoulder.

“How is she?” She catches the hint of a smile in his voice, softer and quieter than before.

“She.” Ophelia scoffs, rolling her eyes at Leopold’s persistence. It’s a funny thing, she thinks, the way he’s adamant that they are having a daughter even though he’s got no evidence to support his claim and every time she asks about it he shrugs and says he “just knows.”

“ _She_ is fine. Getting bigger.” Ophelia slides a hand under the swell of her stomach, cradling her bump. “And keeping me up.” She falls silent for a moment, smiling down at her unborn child. The baby nudges her side, kicking out against her ribs, and she lets out a soft laugh.

“I think she misses you.” Ophelia admits and Leopold lets out a drawn out sigh. “I know I do.”

She thinks of vast empty spaces in too-big beds, the way the cold sheets catch on her body and make her shiver — the way she’s been falling asleep alone and waking up alone in a bed that’s made for two. Sometimes she thinks that if it weren’t for the soft periodic kicks beneath her skin, the loneliness would’ve become unbearable.

“Oph, I’m sorry. You know I hate leaving you two.” He grits out. Anger seeps into his tone, low and dangerous and tasting acrid on his tongue. “I’ll be back as soon as we clean up this mess.”

“Don’t worry about it, Leopold.” She says, absentmindedly pressing her fingers against the spot where the baby had kicked, as if to reassure her that her father would be back soon.

“How’s Berlin?” Ophelia asks, padding across the hall and into the kitchen. She grabs a spoon and moves to rummage through the fridge, pleased to find a tub of chocolate ice cream sitting in the freezer. She pops the lid, leaning her elbows on the counter, and starts digging into the frozen chocolate with the spoon.

On the other end of the line, Leopold lets out a low chuckle, swiping a thumb over his brow bone.

“Hard to tell. I haven’t exactly had time to go sightseeing.” A pause, and then, softer: “But we should come here together someday. With her.”

Ophelia hums, licking the back of the spoon.

“Someday.” She agrees quietly.

“Fuck.” Leopold says, stomach churning with regret. “I miss you, Oph. I should be there with you, holding you both. Instead I’m—” There’s a _thump_ on the other end of the line, the dull sound of Leopold’s shoe kicking out at something. “—tying up loose ends.”

“I know.” Ophelia says softly and it’s comforting and sympathetic and he wishes he could press himself against her body, slip his arms around her waist, feel her warm hands on the small of his back. She’s become this warm, solid presence in his life that keeps him grounded. And somehow, she always makes things better.

“Two more days, right?” There’s a brief pause as she hesitates, twirling the spoon against her teeth. “Hey, uh. I have that appointment soon. Are you...Will you—?” She swallows around the words, dipping her head.

“Ophelia.” There’s a tightness in his voice when he speaks. “I’m going to be there. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Nothing is more important to me than the two of you. You know that, right?”

She nods, making a soft noise that sounds like affirmation, before yawning around the spoon in her mouth. A quiet laugh spills from Leopold’s lips on the other end of the line.

“Go back to sleep.” He says. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Ophelia mumbles and he can hear the lilt of tiredness in her voice.

For a lingering moment he says nothing, letting silence stretch in the space between them as he listens to the gentle sound of her breathing. A beat, and then:

“I love you.”

She blinks, lips curving into a sleepy smile.

“I love you too.” Ophelia tells him, a soft parting gesture, before reluctantly ending the call and letting the phone slip from her shoulder and into her palm, leaving her alone in the silence.


End file.
